The Viking Chief
by Soldier78
Summary: The birth of Stoick's son was a miracle to the village but the obstacle to one man. This man will do anything it takes to be the rightful chief of Berk. Formally titled "How to Be Chief" Hiccup/Astrid moments and two Irish comedians.
1. Prologue

**Okay guys, so I had a little bit of obsession over the Lion King. I saw it in 3D and about halfway through the movie, I thought 'What if Hiccup was in Simba's situation?' and dah-dah-dah this was born. Me and my crazy mind xD. So I hope you enjoy what I've got and please review! Burn it, like it, fave it, have Toothless eat it…I don't care but please read it. **

**Disclaimer, I own nothing. **

**Enjoy!**

How to Be Chief

Prologue

Spitelout heard the bloodcurdling scream of his brother's wife from the Elder's house. He and ten other important officials were surrounding the house, waiting for the cry of their expected child. His eyebrows knitted together in anticipation, hoping to hear a solemn, regretful sigh…his only hope.

Stoick the Vast was expecting his first child, finally, after their many attempts which ended in distraught and hopelessness. It was enough to make sure it was safe to say that when Chief Stoick dies, Spitelout would ascend to the position, becoming leader of Berk.

But then, Odin blessed a miracle to Stoick and Valhallarama and here they all where, biting their lips and shaking in anticipation for the new heir to the throne. Spitelout's fists clenched when he heard a deafening scream and the glorious crying of the new babe.

"It's a healthy baby boy!" shouted one of the Elder's assistants from the wide open window. Cheers erupted. Spitelout, now in defeat, stomped away.

From inside the room, Stoick placed a tender hand on his wife's dampened hair and stared, in disbelief, at the little bundle of joy in Valhallarama's arms, sleeping soundly. Tears of joy watered his eyes. He sniffed, it wasn't the Viking thing to do but becoming a long-awaited father was the definite exception.

Valhallarama stared at her husband who had happy tears streaming down his face and into his thick, braided, red beard.

"What shall we name him?" she asked in a tired, yet, angelic voice. They both stared at the baby who gave a small sort of belch, a quiet hop coming from his stomach…a simple hiccup.

"Hiccup." Stoick said, wiping his eyes clean of tears. "Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III."

Spitelout eyed the hut with a detested look before finally slipping into the shadows of the forest.

To be continued.

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	2. Agreements

**Here's the next chapter guy. Thanks for the reviews already! Please enjoy this next chapter and keep reviewing, I love feedback a lot. I got not much to say save for Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it and enjoy.**

**Disclaimer-I own nothing.**

**Enjoy!**

How to Be Chief

Ch.1: Agreements

No one knew where Spitelout disappeared to after the glorious birth of the heir to Berk's throne. And yet, they were too absorbed with the miracle that they didn't care.

When the birth of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was announced and the little baby was presented to the entire village who hooted and celebrated, Stoick the Vast noticed an absence. He knew his brother was nowhere in sight and he would speak to him later. As brother to the chief, it was his job to be present when the baby was revealed.

Elsewhere, Spitelout angrily spat at the ground as he trudged through the thick foliage. He stomped through the mud and swatted branches away, usually snapping the sticks off the trees. He kicked rocks and broke roots. He grumbled to himself and swore to the Gods.

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" He shouted to the skies. Clear and blue.

As he ventured deeper into the forest, far away from civilization, there were hushed whispers within the bushes.

Spitelout stopped when he heard rustling of bushes. His beefy hand slowly made its way to his sword. He drew, swiftly and pointed it at the bushes to his right.

Before he knew it, a group of men popped out and pointed spears at him. Spitelout knew he was outnumbered but he kept his stance.

"Who are you?" demanded the man in front of him, jabbing his spear in the air towards his chest in a threatening manner. Spitelout cleared his throat.

"Spitelout Jorgenson." Spitelout introduced. "Brother to Chief Stoick the Vast."

"Berk chief?" he asked. Spitelout nodded. He turned to his men. "Kill him."

"Wait," Spitelout stopped before the men could lodged their spears into him. "Don't kill me, I am not going to harm you."

The man looked at him as Spitelout pleaded to spare his life.

"Why kill me?" He questioned.

"Stoick the Vast is an enemy, his family is an enemy to us."

"I am not your enemy." Spitelout told them. He sheathed his sword to prove his point. "See."

"Do you not like Stoick?" the man asked. Spitelout nodded.

"The throne was supposed to mine." Spitelout said. "His wife was barren for some time, it was a miracle that she produced an heir."

The man didn't say anything. Spitelout continued.

"Why do you not like Chief Stoick?" Spitelout asked.

"His ancestors banished us. We were banished because we wanted to expand the village because there was no room. But your ancestors were peacemakers. They had their own problems to deal with, dragons." The man told him.

"That's why I want to become chief," Spitelout said. "My brother does not want to expand our village because he thinks that we need to focus on saving our land first. If we expand, more people won't be victims to dragon raids."

"You make a good point." The man agreed with a firm nod, lowering his spear to an upright position. "Did you talk to the chief about this?"

"Like you said," Spitelout started to reason. "He's a peacemaker."

"Not a real Viking." The man added. Spitelout nodded.

"And now he has a son," Spitelout revealed. "He'll be the next chief and there will be no chance of expansion."

The boy next to the man spoke up.

"Then let's overthrow him." He suggested.

"Hush my son," The man ordered. He glanced at Spitelout. "There is no guarantee this man is safe."

"I agree with your son." Spitelout acknowledged. "If we overthrow the chief, I become Chief and I will revoke your banishment. You will then lead the expedition to expand our village, like you agreed."

It was a very promising declaration. The man grinned an evil, toothy grin.

"Aye." He stated with a nod.

"What is your name?" Spitelout asked.

"My name is Signar."

To be continued.

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	3. 14 Years Later

**Hey guys, sorry for the lack of updates. I wanted to finish up How to Be a Slave first. If you want to check that out, please do, I actually like the story. Here's the next chapter. As always thanks for those who reviewed and please review after you read. I really want feedback!**

**Disclaimer, I own nothing. **

How to Be Chief

Ch.2: 14 years later

14 years passed since the birth of the chief's heir. Spitelout, a surprisingly clever Viking, did not make his plot hasty. He was willing to wait for the right time, something he had learned as a child from hunting experience.

Though, he laughed at the turnout of the heir. Hiccup turned out to be a joke, it would be a shocker to find him actually mature enough to take the throne from his father. He was a screw-up and he was a twig, a fishbone. He was barely strong enough to carry a dagger around. He was very lanky and scrawny, he was always scared and acted like a coward even though he wanted to 'down a Night Fury', the rarest breed of dragon.

But he still had to wait.

It bewildered him. From a scrawny, pathetic toothpick grew a brave, noble and determined toothpick. He still acquired the same body stature but he was now respected by the village. His father was proud of him, he was legendary and he won the heart of that blonde beauty that Spitelout's son, Snotlout, had his eyes on for many years. Spitelout was angered and knew that his plan had to be placed into action soon.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had grown up to be a very respectful, observant, young fellow. It was no surprise to Spitelout when he discovered that Hiccup created peace among the dragons. It only angered him further, this village was not going to survive with this…kindness. They were Vikings, fighting was what they do, conquering is what they do. For Odin sakes', they've branched out across the sea. They were in Ireland, Scotland, England…everywhere and yet, this tribe of Vikings were still acting humble. Some Vikings, Spitelout was scoff.

Hiccup's dragon was the legendary Night Fury, an affectionate and vocalized dragon who went by the name of Toothless.

'A stupid, ironic name.' Spitelout mused as he passed by them one day, Hiccup was scratching his dragon who crooned in pleasure.

Another thing to add is that this boy was motherless. Valhallarama died from a dragon raid, probably from the blast coming from that breed of dragon. It was treacherous to watch the boy recline against the beast who probably killed his adoring mother.

Spitelout spat at the ground and marched away towards the Chief's house to propose another hunt. The ice was about to set in.

While Hiccup was out with the blonde warrior and their respective dragons, Spitelout would talk to the chief.

He knocked on the nicely decorated door, it showed the symbols of power. It stood upon the hill, overlooking the whole village. It was symbolic. Maybe Spitelout would move in once everything settled.

Stoick opened the door.

"Brother." He claimed. "Come in."

Spitelout walked inside and Stoick looked at him.

"What is on your mind, brother?" Stoick asked.

"Chief, I want to propose something." Spitelout said. "I say it's a good time to take a family hunting trip."

Stoick eyed his brother for a moment.

"Hear me out Stoick," Spitelout said. "Just you, me and your son. One more go before the ice sets in."

"That is a great idea, Spite." Stoick agreed. "Alright, we leave tomorrow morning."

Spitelout grinned, bowed and left. The chief was such a fool.

Meanwhile, Hiccup had landed Toothless at their cove. Astrid followed suit and dismounted. Hiccup sighed in content as he settled against a boulder, watching Toothless and Bluescales, Astrid's Deadly Nadder, fish in the pond.

It had been four months since the battle with the Green Death, five months since he met Toothless, regretfully ripping off his tail thanks to his bolas cannon. He discovered the reason for the dragon raids, finding them enslaved to feed this gigantic creature who could swallow hundreds of dragons whole in one big gulp. The Death was something scary, Astrid was there with him. They flown on the back of the Night Fury who was forced to arrive at the Dragon's Nest, a landmark Vikings were after from the beginning. Once discovering it, everything went downhill. Stoick the Vast eventually found out Hiccup's secret bond with this elusive dragon as well as the location of the Dragon's Nest. Stoick and many Vikings embarked to the Dragon's Nest, prepared for the battle for existence. Hiccup and his newly acquired friends set out to save them from an unfortunate fate. Hiccup led the band of five Vikings, using much of his gained strategy before finally taking over as he freed Toothless. Even if there that was a victory for the Vikings, Hiccup's victory was priced. He had lost his left foot, becoming a hero with a prosthetic limb, very similar to Toothless's appendage. They both needed each other more.

So now, Hiccup was living his life with much content as possible. He was no longer the scrawny Outcast everyone tried to ignore, including Astrid. He was now the scrawny dragon rider everyone approaches with warm hearts.

Hiccup loved moments like these now. He was surrounded by two dragons and his not-so-quite girlfriend, who was sharpening a dagger with a small rock, sitting on the grass while the two dragons fished.

It had been a busy week for Hiccup. He had been working in the forge, filling the never ending requests for new weapons and fixing broken ones as well. He was also scheduled in teaching other Vikings who needed help with their dragons. He also had chores and Toothless to take care of.

It was a nice change that he could spend some free time in this beautiful area. Two dragons who could take care of feeding themselves, relaxing his sore stump and hearing the scraping sound of Astrid's dagger against the rock.

It was not a typical getaway, but it comforted him. Hiccup mused on his past. He was still the screw-up, Hel, Astrid still called him 'toothpick.' Was it out of affection? Hiccup could never tell with her. She was really good in making words mean two things. If he said something wrong to her, he was met with a nice punch to the shoulder which would form into an impressive bruise. But yet, he still clumsily hurt himself when she was in sight. He would watch her saunter from his spot on the forge, unfortunately, while he was either hammering some iron or sharpening some axe. That boy was prone to hurting himself and it didn't help when she caught his attention.

"Hiccup?"

He shook his head and looked at the girl.

"Something wrong?" Hiccup asked, a little confused at her interruption.

"What're thinking about?" Astrid questioned.

"N-nothing." Hiccup replied. "Just…thinking."

Astrid raised a brow towards this mysteriousness.

"About what…exactly?"

Sighing, Hiccup answered.

"My past."

"What about it?"

"It's scary." Hiccup said. "I'm still the village screw-up but I went from the outcast…to…not the outcast."

Even if he was bright and smart, he had trouble finding words. Astrid shook her head.

"It's not that scary." Astrid proclaimed, sheathing her dagger and standing up, getting closer to him. She sat down next to him, their shoulders pressed together. Hiccup's face flushed, he looked away. "Do you regret changing Berk?"

"No…I don't." Hiccup answered. "It's a good thing but again, good things can sometimes be frightening. It feels like yesterday I was trying to convince my dad that I downed a Night Fury. It's scary to think that the people I talk to today…they pushed me away for so long…wouldn't you find that scary?"

"Sometimes Hiccup," Astrid said. "You have to put your past behind you. Focus on what you have now."

Hiccup smiled. She was not just a warrior, she was a wise warrior.

To be continued.


	4. A Hunt to Remember

**Hey guys! Next chapter! Renamed sort of as a pun on the name. Thanks for your reviews and please keep giving me feedback! **

**Disclaimer, I own nothing. **

**Review and enjoy! **

The Viking Chief

Ch.3: Hunt to Remember

Stoick the Vast told Hiccup about the hunt once he came home from his little getaway with Astrid and their dragons. Toothless blasted a small ball of fire into the fireplace before curling up for a good night's sleep.

"Tomorrow morning son, you'll become a real Viking." Stoick acknowledged, patting his son on the shoulder. Hiccup winced, watching his father disappear upstairs.

The morning came soon enough. Hiccup busily packed himself, a little reluctant. He wanted to sleep in for a change. Toothless followed his human outside.

The Elder watched as the three humans grouped. She held onto her cane, leaning on it slightly, smiling. This would be a great time for the chief's family to reconnect after all the mayhem. She smiled when she found Spitelout clasping a hand on Hiccup's shoulder and stroked his Night Fury's snout as Stoick talked to them. She watched in amusement as Hiccup was given an affectionate farewell by that Hofferson girl. It was the standard punch-then kiss procedure the village recognized and snorted in amusement. She chuckled when she pushed the dazed boy towards his father. Turns out, Toothless was ordered to stay. He dramatically pined for his rider but Spitelout gave strict instructions of no dragons on this hunt. The Elder frowned when the trio departed for the forest.

She could still picture the day when she acted as the midwife to Valhallarama. It had been so long ago when that little babe was pushed from the womb of his beloved mother. The boy who was never expected to be. Thoughtfully, she pressed against her cane. That was boy was growing up to be something powerful and great, she could feel it in her rattling bones. She knew how great his victory against the Green Death was but she could still predicted a challenge even greater.

"Odin bless them." She prayed. "May their hunt be successful."

Spitelout could hear Hiccup grumble about not having Toothless with him. Spitelout gritted his teeth as his brother started to talk to his son.

"Don't worry son," Stoick advised. "Spitelout's right, we need to spend some time…without the dragons."

Hiccup grumbled something incoherent before kicking a stone out of the way with his good foot. Another thing that bothered Spitelout was the constant squeaking of his prosthetic.

That night, the trio set up camp for the night. Spitelout insisted they camp in this special area, full of rocks and trees, in the middle of nowhere. As they set up camp, Spitelout approached his nephew.

"Hey nephew," He called. Hiccup turned around and saw his uncle approaching. "We need some wood for the fire, I know a good place where to find some. Can you do that for me?"

Hiccup reluctantly nodded.

"Good, now don't get into any trouble. Keep an eye out for anything that might get you. If something happens, just run. " Spitelout instructed. Hiccup nodded again before hobbling off deeper into the forest.

Meanwhile, Signar and his son waited from their boulders, respectively.

"Can we go now?" His son asked.

"Quiet Gunnar, not yet." Signar said. "We need to wait for Spitelout's signal."

Gunnar groaned but looked up.

"Father, look." Gunnar pointed out. Signar looked up and nodded to Spitelout. Signar turned to the rest of his men.

"Now men." Signar ordered. They picked up their spears and swords, Signar and Gunnar unsheathed their swords and they walked. Gunnar twitched with excitement, Signar tried to calm him. They were still undercover.

Hiccup stopped walking, only three sticks were in his arms as he heard several crunches and twigs snapping. He gulped and before he knew it, he heard a loud roar. His jaw dropped and he quickly started to run.

"Ah!"

Spitelout hurried back to Stoick who had made a little fire and poked a stick at his smoldering twigs.

"Stoick! Brother!" Spitelout cried. Stoick looked up and stood up, knowing this would be urgent. "Hiccup's in trouble."

"What?" Stoick asked. "Take me to him."

Spitelout guided his brother quickly to scene. Stoick gasped at the sight.

"Son!"

Hiccup was trapped, eight or nine warriors surrounded him and they did not look merciful.

"Oh gods, oh gods!" Hiccup shouted in fear.

"Kill him!" came the shout of Signar.

"Get away from my son!" Stoick shouted as he charged forward, axe at hand. Stoick took care of two warriors before looking up at his son when he created an opening to run. "Run, Hiccup!"

Hiccup tried to run, he stumbled back before attempting to scurry away.

"Run, Hiccup!"

It was not long before something plunged into Stoick's back. Hiccup gasped. Stoick continued to fight as Hiccup just stood there, frozen. Hiccup hid behind some trees, only able to hear the actions.

Stoick tried to get up but two men pinned him down.

"Spitelout!" Stoick asked, his brother who stood there, only watching. "Brother!"

Spitelout got closer to his brother and knelt down.

"Long live…the Chief." Spitelout snarled before withdrawing his knife and plunging it into Stoick's chest. Stoick gasped and soon shouted a painful cry and Hiccup's eyes went wide.

"No!"

Spitelout quickly disappeared as the other men soon scurried away. Hiccup frantically limped over to his father and knelt down to him.

"Dad?" Hiccup asked, putting his hands on his body. He gave him a shake. "Dad, wake up. We need to go back!"

There was no answer. Stoick's face was pale, his eyes were closed…Hiccup found tears trickling down his face.

"Help me!" Hiccup shouted to the skies in plea. "I need help! Spitelout! Anybody! Help me!"

His shout could be heard from miles away but Hiccup knew there was nothing more to do. He started to drift into hysterical sobs as he gave his father one last shove.

"I'm sorry dad." Hiccup said, placing his forehead against his father's chest. "It's my fault."

He laid down next to his dead father and tried to close his eyes. He let out one last sob before finally settling with tears.

Spitelout 'limped' to the two. He wore a frown while he rejoiced inside.

"Hiccup." Spitelout said, making his voice crack. Hiccup opened one eye before finding his uncle standing there.

"Uncle Spitelout." Hiccup said.

"What have you done?" Spitelout asked.

"You…you told me to get firewood…and I did…."

"I told you to run when something happened." Spitelout said. "Did you run?"

Hiccup shook his head.

"The chief is dead." His uncle proclaimed, sadly. Hiccup glanced at his body. Spitelout gasped. "What will the village think?"

Hiccup sniffed, wiping his nose.

"What should I do?" Hiccup asked.

"Run, Hiccup, runaway." Spitelout said, sincerely. "And never come back."

Hiccup took a step back before finally sprinting off, ignoring his prosthetic. Spitelout watched as he ventured into the darkness. The moon casted a glow but it was still dim. Signar approached Spitelout.

"Get him." Spitelout snarled.

To be continued.

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	5. Tragedy

**Sorry guys for the lack of updates. It's been pretty hectic lately even though it is my winter break. So here's the next chapter. I'm not dead so no worries um…please review and thanks to those who already have. I love feedback. Enjoy this next chapter!**

**Disclaimer, I own nothing. **

The Viking Chief

Ch.4: Tragedy

Hiccup could not tell how long or how far he had run until he found himself on the other side of the island. He panted heavily as he looked over his shoulder. His heart pounded against his rib cage, his breath was raspy and his leg gave out agonizing pain.

Finally accepting the fact that he was safe, he skidded to a halt and bent over, placing his hands on his knees. Sweat dribbled down his face as he tried to fulfill his lungs with much needed oxygen. Thoughts raced across his mind as he started to limp. He had arrived out of the forest to find a sandy beach.

'Oh Gods,' Hiccup thought to himself as he pulled his metal foot free from encasing mud. 'Oh gods, what do I do?'

He shouted in distraught.

"What do I do?"

* * *

><p>That next morning, the Elder saw Spitelout return from the forest, carrying the cape of Stoick the Vast and a written look of sadness. Villagers crowded around him at this mystery. She heard from her spot near the stone stage where Spitelout managed to get himself on.<p>

"Villagers of Berk!" Spitelout shouted. "I am afraid to announce that our beloved chief, Chief Stoick the Vast, died while on our hunting trip. As for his son, Hiccup."

He bowed his head, unable to finish that thought.

"I will ascend the throne with a heavy heart," Spitelout said. As on cue, men joined Spitelout on the stage. These men were unrecognizable. "But I will have help, these kind gentlemen has offered to help as we begin a new era. A new era that will overcome our great tragedy."

The Elder watched everyone mourn, especially the Hofferson girl who had placed a soft hand on the Haddock's boy Night Fury who understood that his human wasn't coming home. The Elder sighed and leaned against her cane.

"Odin help us all."

* * *

><p>Tears streamed down the boy's face as he slowly strolled across the warm sand. The sun beamed down on him as he tried to contemplate what to do next. He had to leave this island, there was nothing more for him.<p>

His first thought was to return and try to convince them that he was sorry and he would make it up to them, but it sounded stupid when he attempted three steps. His father was dead and it was his fault. If he hadn't been aware of all the noises, if he had run when he was told too, he wouldn't be in exile and Stoick would've been alive.

He let out another shout of angered plea and plopped down in the sand.

How was he going to leave the island? He could not go back and get a boat…he would have to make one himself.

"How can I make a boat and expect to find another island?" Hiccup questioned himself. It was a duh moment for him when he found that behind him there was enough resources to build something that could float.

He allowed the depressing thoughts drift into his mind as he pushed fallen logs out to the beach. He missed his village dearly. He wondered how they reacted to the news, how was Berk going to deal with the loss of one of their finest leaders. He wondered how his friends reacted, did they cry or were they angered by this treachery. He wondered how Astrid felt, was she going to find and kill him or was she finally crying, something she was not known for. He wondered how the dragons felt, did they understand the situation, how was Toothless feeling? He was grounded for good. Hiccup tightened the thick vine he used to join the three logs together with an angered tug. He gnawed his lip with his teeth as he gave short, ragged heaves to the manmade raft. He knew he wasn't going to make it to another island on this thing, but he had to try. Even when unofficially banished, he was still a Viking…and they had stubbornness issues.

Finally the logs met the water and surprisingly, floated. Hiccup tested out the vines and made sure the logs wouldn't move in opposite directions. He seemed to tied them down good enough. He bit his lip before finally hopping on. He grabbed his trusty stick that would be used as a paddle and started to drift away from the shore.

Hopefully, the Gods would be generous to perform some kind of miracle.

To be continued.


	6. Kacey and Boden

**Sorry guys for the lack of updates. But I've been really busy lately even though its my Winter Break. My mom's job requires a move in to another building part of the expansion project and there's been a lot of other things that's been coming up as well. So here's the next chapter, as usual, thanks for the reviews for those who already had and please review more, I really like feedback.**

**Disclaimer, I own nothing. **

The Viking Chief

Ch.5: Kacey and Boden

There was not a day where Kacey and Boden didn't go on one of their crazy adventures. The pair of siblings was pretty well-known in their village. Not just from being the leader's children, but they managed to make names for themselves.

'Stró* Team' began when they just learned to walk. They almost burned down the house when they threw in any wood they could find when they were three. They brought home pets to their mothers that brought little friends with them when they were five. They almost accidently injure some villagers during archery practice and sword fighting when they were thirteen. Though they were troublemakers, they were highly respected by the villagers as the future leaders.

They were a good half a day's walk from their village.

"Okay, Kacey," Boden started as Kacey guided him across the beach. "Why are ye draggin' me out 'ere?"

"Boden, ye gotta see this," Kacey jabbered.

Boden, a tall boy with night- colored hair and dashing green eyes, sighed exasperated as his sister dragged him. Kacey was a girl with chestnut locks and ocean blue eyes, she wore her hair in a single ponytail and was an unlikely warrior with unmistakable muscle.

"Look," Kacey said, halting him. She pointed at the figure.

"So, it's a piece of driftwood." Boden said, rolling his shoulders as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

"Open yer eyes, Boden." Kacey commanded. "C'mon."

Boden followed his sister out to the water. The figure came into close view to Boden as he gasped when he found it as a human being.

"Kacey, don't get too close." Boden warned.

"He's not gonna jump up and stab me is he?" Kacey asked. Boden sighed.

"Okay, ye convinced me. Let me check this out." Boden said, jogging up. He knelt down to the boy's body and investigated.

Boden jumped back, startled.

"Geez, it's a Vikin'!" He shouted.

Kacey saw her brother, comically throw himself back.

"Are ye sure?" Kacey asked, raising a brow at her twin's outburst.

"Check it out yerself." He instructed. Kacey rolled her eyes as she inspected the boy. She found something glimmering by his side. She reached over and pulled it out. She carefully examined the dagger. She could understand the source of Boden's alert. She tossed it in the air, spinning it around once before catching it by its hilt. She stood up.

"Well, he's a Vikin' alright." Kacey said. She lowered the knife and looked at the body of the boy. She tossed the knife to Boden. He snatched it out of the air before it would harm him as Kacey crouched down and felt around for a pulse. She removed her hand and rested it on her knee. "He's alive."

"Well what do we do with him?" Boden suggested, messing around the dagger. He dropped it, nearly severing his foot. Kacey rolled her eyes at her brother's clumsiness.

"We take him back to the village," Kacey said as she stood up.

"What? Are ye crazy?" Boden stressed. Kacey faced him.

"Well what else are we to do? Leave him out 'ere to die?"

"Uh…yeah." Boden said in a 'duh' tone. She shook her head.

"I'm not leaving him here for somethin' to eat him." Kacey told him.

"But he's a Viking," Boden fought. He gestured a hand to him. "He's a bloodthirsty killer, it's in his blood."

"Look at his body," Kacey reasoned. "Does he look like he's gonna kill us?"

"Well no, but he could turn into one." Boden defended.

"You are an idiot." Kacey said as she bent down and grabbed the boy from under his shoulders. "C'mon, grab his legs."

"Fine," Boden said with defeat. He grabbed his legs. "Hey, what's with the metal thing?"

Kacey ignored her brother as they brought him to their home.

Hiccup groaned as he felt a rag touch his forehead. He blinked twice and his blurring world became clear. The person who owned the rag muttered something in a different language, a dialect he could not recognize. When he heard a second voice, he raised a brow.

"Huh?"

He tried to sit up but as he tried, he winced and nearly fell back. He stared at the old lady who hovered above him, patting the rag down, collecting sweat, a possible fever.

"Wh-where am I?" Hiccup croaked.

There was a bit of panic from two teenagers.

"Okay! Viking awake! We're gonna-Ow!" cried the male. He grasped his throbbing head.

The female lowered her used hand and got closer to the boy. She talked to the old woman in a gentle tongue. The woman responded and she looked at him.

"Uh, hi. Sorry about Boden over there." The girl said, looking over her shoulder. Hiccup blinked in disbelief, he could understand every word they were saying.

"Vikings are mean!" the boy, Boden, shouted.

"Oi, shut up you nutcase!" the girl hollered.

"H-how can I…understand you?"

"Oh, they speak plenty Norse." The old woman said, setting her rag into a clay bowl. "Their father is quite a linguist."

"So then…where am I?" Hiccup questioned, a little more frantic than casual.

"Why, yer in Eire*!" Boden boasted, proudly. "The home to many fine warriors who can easily decapitate a Vik-"

"Okay that's it!" the girl shouted, shoving the boy towards the hut's door. "Out ye go you fearless fish!"

Hiccup raised a brow at the girl. The woman looked up and shouted something at the girl in the different dialect.

"That's Kacey an' Boden," The woman announced, looking at the boy. "Our future leaders."

"They're…going to be chiefs?" Hiccup asked.

"Aye, may God help us all." The woman jokingly breathed. Hiccup looked away for a moment. "So tell me lad, why're ye out 'ere? Away from yer land?"

Hiccup pursed his lips, hanging his head.

"I ran away." Hiccup said, sadly. His heart ached in sorrow. He will no longer embrace the clouds when he flies on his trusty dragon, he will no longer enjoy the cold nights but the warm furnace in the Forge, he will no longer share his humorous wit with his newly acquired friends, he will no longer receive a hard punch but sweet kiss from his significant other. Hiccup grieved for all this loss. He felt alone again.

"What fer?" the woman asked, hanging up the rag.

"It doesn't matter." Hiccup coldly stated. "I'm never going back."

"Well, can I ask where're ye from?" The woman added.

"Berk."

The woman's old eyes lifted.

"Berk?" She questioned. She studied him for a second, Hiccup looked at her quizzically. She shook her head, white hair splaying across her wrinkly face. "Ah, my boy, do not worry, we will accept your company here in Trumore."

Hiccup didn't know what to feel about that. He's heard of Ireland, his kind is not very welcoming to those who were non-Viking outposts. If they knew he was a Viking, then why didn't they kill him already?

"I will see to it that the Chief knows of your presence." The woman stated.

"Wait," Hiccup stopped. "How did I end up here?"

The elder woman shook her head.

"Ask Kacey and Boden."

Hiccup watched her wobbly body leave the hut, leaving a dying fire and a lonely boy inside.

He heard a shout.

"Hey! Kacey that's not fair!"

Hiccup slowly got up only to realize that his prosthetic was not attached to his stump. He looked around the room and found it leaning against the wall. Deciding to take the risk, he got on his other foot and kept his hand firm against the base of the wall. He hopped over to it, carefully and steadily, the cool air whipped his knotted skin. He finally got to the metal thing and sat on the ground, slowly strapping it to his appendage.

He took a good look at it. It looked a bit newer, or at least repaired. It wasn't as dented as before. He got up to his feet and lifted the animal pelt than hung off the top of the doorframe. He found the two future leaders battling out with two swords.

He watched Boden firm his stance and block quick blows from Kacey. His attention soon switched to the girl. She was quick an expert fighter, skilled in attack and decisive in defense. She was quick and agile, unlike her brother who fought with brute strength.

Kacey and Boden.

To be continued.

**Footnotes**

**Stró-Trouble**

**Eire-Ireland **

**Please, Click that Button**


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